


Elevated

by Enigma13



Series: In Friends We Trust [20]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Gen, Post Royal Rumble 2017, friendship fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:21:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma13/pseuds/Enigma13
Summary: After the Royal Rumble, Becky feels... oddly optimistic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Another pay per view, another installment. I quite enjoyed the Rumble. I feel like it opens a lot of possible storylines towards Mania. There is always a chance they'll be boring with it and then the Rumble with suck in hindsight, but I tend to be more optimistic of such things, and WWE in general. So, not only does this fic coincide with my optimism, it also makes fun of myself and the tropes I've set for myself doing this series. I hope you enjoy this straight fluff, also looking at whats going on around the friendship of Becky and Dean! Title is from a song by State Champs! Enjoy!

Becky grunted as Dean threw another ice pack at her. “You know, if I wanted to get more beat up, I would have drew a number for the Rumble.” She placed the ice pack on her arm and moved it back and forth. Those ring posts hurt like a bitch.

Dean chuckled from the other side of the room, still sweaty from the Rumble. “You should of. You could have won easy. The fabled luck of the Irish. Plus, it’s your birthday tomorrow? All the stars aligned.” Becky felt a surge of warmth in her chest at Dean’s surety in his voice. 

She turned and picked up her stuff, using the strap of her bag to hold the ice pack to her shoulder. Dean had decided he would just put on his jacket and shower later, and while Becky wasn’t ecstatic about spending the next couple of hours with sweaty man smell in the car, Dean had assured her since they were in Texas they could drive with the windows down. She opened the door and grinned back at him, “If you want to do another social media interview I’ll send in my question of ‘Who would be the most dominant Rumble winner ever in your mind, if they entered?’ so you can answer me. Sound good, Twitter master?” She grinned at her pun.

He gave her a tiny glare, only the barest hint of a smile peaking through. He had expressed his horror and annoyance at having to do an interview involving social media. Becky had eagerly watched it so that she could make fun of him later. She opened her mouth to do so, not willing to stop with just the poke at his “Titty master” spoof, when someone moved past their doorway, while they were standing in it, drawing Becky’s eye. It was Charlotte, who was rolling her suitcase, Women’s Title over her shoulder, to the exit. She locked eyes with Becky for a moment and nodded. Becky gave her a small, tight-lipped smile and nodded back. She moved down the hall again, eyes turned forward and Becky watched her go.

She felt Dean’s presence closer to her back before she heard his voice. “Wow, that was either a lot of sexual tension, or the weirdest stare down that I’ve ever seen.” Becky rolled her eyes so hard that she almost felt them pop out. 

“We’ve been talking more again. There was an entire part of her that I didn’t get when we were close. How she turns it on when she has something to defend, damn everything else. Now that I get that, it’s easier to be around her again. I’m not going for her title so she doesn’t feel threatened, but even if I do end up going for it again, I’d get where she’s coming from and maybe not hold things against her so personally.” She glanced back at him, “Before, I didn’t want to see that side of her, even though you tried to warn me, but I’ve come to terms with it now.” She quirked a smile, seeing his disapproving face. “And you’re one to talk, suddenly being all friendly with Rollins.”

Dean groaned, “Touché, Irish.” She knew he had been feeling conflicted about Seth in the recent months. They’d talked at Tribute to the Troops and a little bit after Survivor Series, and Dean had told her that he’d trust Roman’s judgment for now, but he still didn’t trust Seth himself. “It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” Becky’s mind drifted back to Charlotte for a moment before switching back to the task at hand, getting out of the arena. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before people’s emotions get the better of them and they decide to start jumping people to let off steam.” The locker room was notoriously unpredictable after the Rumble.

She started down the hall, Dean at her back. It was a long walk, the exit to their parking garage being farther away than the one that Charlotte had went out. Becky turned a corner, seeing Bayley by a production crate. She grabbed Bayley’s shoulder and squeezed, giving her a genuine smile. Bayley gave her a small one back and nodded her thanks, still down about her loss it seemed. Becky looked back at Dean, who was pressed against the wall, his eyes comically wide. “Don’t hug me.”

Becky gave him a withering look, but was surprised to hear a small giggle come from Bayley. She smiled at them both, this time much bigger before jumping off the crate, crushing Becky in a hug, and walking off. Becky turned an impressed eye to Dean, who had come to walk beside her as they resumed their trek. “Nicely handled, Ambrose.”

He shrugged, seeming nonchalant. “I do what I can. You know that. Especially after that cage match.”

Becky grunted, her mind traveling back to the aftermath of the cage match with Alexa Bliss where she had unmasked Mickie James. It had been one of her worst nights, emotionally, in quite a while. Dean had to basically care for her for almost a full day before she felt up to even get out of bed. One of her favorite women’s wrestlers as a kid had basically derailed the momentum of her career for some reason and she couldn’t fathom why, or reconcile the Mickie James that she idolized with the one who’d been costing her matches as of late. 

Dean had sat her down and basically shaken her shoulders, told her to get pissed about it, and show Mickie that Becky Lynch doesn’t deal with this subterfuge bullshit. Becky planned to do just that soon enough. She ended up making Dean turn on Zombieland, ate an entire pint of ice cream, and then go to the gym to work it off the next morning.

She couldn’t begin to thank Dean for all he’d done for her, just in the past year alone. He’d gone to jail for her, dealt with her at her lowest, and continued to be there for her no matter the situation. So, she didn’t. “Well, you have to pay me back somehow for having to watch you polish that belt every day. And the other million things I have to put up with when you’re around.” 

Dean huffed a laugh. She knew that he wouldn’t want some sappy thank you from her. It wasn’t his style, or hers. At least, not in the context they were in. There was a time and place where they could get that kind of stuff out, but after a decently positive night for them, a rare occurrence, it seemed too good to let the emotional stuff get in the way of their good time, lest they jinx themselves. “Well, I mean, I still got my belt, despite getting my ass kicked by Lesnar.” 

Becky gave him a smirking side eye. “Want me to beat him up for you?”

He rolled his eyes, his scruffy face not hiding the smirk any longer. “You tried that once before at Fastlane last year. Get some new material, Bex.” He placed his hands behind his head casually. “Nah, Lesnar’s a dick, but I got my laughs when Goldberg owned him tonight, again. 

She felt herself laugh, not having thought about his feud with Lesnar this past year in quite a while. Though, now that she remembered, she might have to send a Goldberg a fruit basket for his actions tonight. She’d call it ‘community service’ but that was just her. “Always pulling your ass out of the fire, Ambrose. It’s tough to always have something new to say.”

Dean took two steps in front of her to hold open the door, giving her a grand gesture. “My hero.”

She smirked and instead of walking through the door, wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. Dean stiffened, but eventually he returned the affection. “I said, no hugging. Just cause I said it to Bayley doesn’t mean it only applies to her.”

Becky grinned, despite the sweaty hug. “Shut up and let me hug you.”

He patted her back awkwardly, more for show than because he was awkward, before he softly spoke, the way his voice got when he talked to her or Renee when they were upset. “What is this for? You okay?”

Becky smiled, genuinely, and had to stop herself from a mad giggle. “That’s just the thing. I’m perfect. I just realized, this has been the first time in a while where we haven’t been hurt, beaten up, or betrayed. I don’t just be around or want you around for the bad times. I want you around for all the good times too, so shut up and take the damn hug.”

“Only you can make a hug sound threatening… actually, maybe Bayley can, she’s talented.” He waited a beat before trying to pull away. “Okay, okay, you made your point. I love you too, but I’m starving and if we don’t get to the nearest Waffle House, I might cook and eat you, so let’s get a move on.”

Becky grinned as her friend began walking ahead of her towards the car. Hopefully, they’d have more pay per views like this, where they are both happy. But, that remained to be seen. However, a trip to Waffle House sounded like the best idea that Dean’s ever had. She caught up to him in record time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! Leave a comment or kudos if you did! I want to go ahead and apologize for the future spam. I'm posting two more stories for Becky's birthday today! Happy 30th to my favorite wrestler, regardless of gender!


End file.
